


Pale Blue Nocturne

by Volkihar



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Pre-Talon Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-02-14 19:47:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Volkihar/pseuds/Volkihar
Summary: A doctor's heart falls victim to a married French woman, and she's having a difficult time dealing with the reality of it all.





	1. Autumn  Gale

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I suppose this is my first fic, at least one that has ever been posted! I'd really love to improve my work throughout this story, please leave any comments on constructive criticism that you may have. I hope you enjoy, thank you so much for reading! :)
> 
> Also, I'm not really sure how to format dialogue - so please let me know if this is easy to read. thanks!

The warm, golden light of the morning sun poured into Dr. Zeigler’s office just as a steaming pot of coffee would stream into a mug. The young doctor crooked her neck, and lifted her head off of her work desk planted right in the center of her room at Overwatch Headquarters. She stretched her aching arms overhead, paying no attention to the sleep scars indented on the right side of her cheek from her make shift pillow last night. Shoulder length golden hair strung from her scalp in every direction, making the doctor look more like a lion than a human.

A sudden knock at the door, and the doctor leapt from her black, cushioned, leather rolley chair. Which in return, gave a loud squeak after being moved for the first time in hours. Startling the somewhat clumsy doctor, she quickly turned behind her and looked at her reflection through a window, as if it were a mirror. She threw her hair up in a sloppy pony tail using the black hair tie on her left wrist, adjusted her lab coat that read “Dr. Angela Ziegler” on her left breast and wiped the crust away that accumulated on the right side of her lips from sleeping with a wide open mouth all night.

“Come in!” The doctor pleaded with the person on the other side of the door, as her eyes darted around the room for a clock so she would know what time it was. 8:03am read the clock as the door opened with a squeak, much like the doctor’s chair that she still wish she was sleeping in.

“You know Angela, you should really just move your bed to your office.” A tall, pale gentleman with black hair and a handlebar mustache curled tightly at the ends, and a brilliant white grin greeted Angela with a giant hug. Much like how a bear would strangle its’ prey. Angela smiled, returning the hug with nearly as much force as she was greeted with.

“I’ve just been so busy lately, Agent Lacroix” Angela retorted back as she shot the tall, French man a smirk. He smiled back. “Angela, how long have we known each other? Enough of the professional addressing bull shit. How many times do I have to tell you, please just call me Gérard!” He said as he smiled with a toothy grin, a cup of piping hot coffee in his right hand.

Gérard was one of Angela’s favorite Overwatch Agents. Not only had she worked along side with him for years, he was one of the most welcoming agents when Angela first joined the Overwatch team. Gérard was one of the friendliest, compassionate and adoring people she’s ever known.

Angela and Gérard just clicked, like two peas in a pod. She swore, years ago that if she was interested in men that she would have married Gérard after their first mission. But that wasn’t her, she knew Gérard was happily married as he proudly wore a thick, yellow gold wedding band on his left ring finger. Curiosity always got the best of the doctor. She never met Agent Lacroix’s wife, but she oftentimes wondered if she was was as much of an outgoing person as Gérard was. She heard Gérard speak of his wife often, but Angela never knew her name and she’s never seen the agent’s wife around headquarters.

Angela beamed her turquoise eyes at Gérard and adjusted her lab coat once more. “What are you doing here this early?” The blonde was about to open her mouth to yawn, but quickly tried to keep her mouth shut as tight as she could to try and swallow her sign of sleepiness from staying up all night. She pushed a few strands of blonde out of her face, acting as if it wasn’t her plan to yawn all along.

“What do you mean, this early? It’s time to start the day! The more we get accomplished, the more time we have to focus on our family Thanksgiving!” The French man laughed as he took a sip of his bitter, black coffee. He walked over to Angela’s desk and paged through the notebook she used as a pillow from the slumber she awoke from this morning.

“We don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving!” the blonde exclaimed with a half joking eyeroll. A silence fell between them as Gérard’s eyes swiped from left to right like a typewriter would as he read from page to page. “I’m working on some ideas to enhance Torbjörn’s turret.” the doctor whispered. Gérard gave the doctor an inquisitive look. “I thought you were a lover, not a fighter?” the dark haired man raised an eyebrow, and in return Angela offered a smirk, making them both cackle. Gérard slapped his knees and looked up with a rosy, blushed face. “Commander Gabe and Mr. Morrison really wish to bring the Thanksgiving tradition to our Overwatch family.” He stuck his pinky out at the doctor while holding the coffee cup in his same hand. “Grab yourself a cup of bean juice and get working. Wouldn’t want to disappoint old man Jack.” Gérard grinned and walked out of the door, shutting it behind him. 

‘Bean juice’ the doctor thought to herself and snorted. “What a goof” the doctor said, almost with a snort to herself. Angela decided to slip out of her jeans and t-shirt she slept in, in exchange she pulled on a new pair of light denim blue jeans and slipped on a black turtleneck and threw on her doctorate bathrobe and a pair of white tennis shoes and proceeded out of her bedroom door. The slipped the black hair tie that held her heavenly blonde mane back and wore the hair piece as a bracelet and danced her delicate fingers through sections of her hair. She bumped into Commander Gabriel Reyes as she was paying more attention to getting a knot out of her hair than she was walking to the shared kitchen.

“Morning Doc.” Gabriel said through his teeth. Angela responded to his morning greeting with a small grin “Good morning Gabe, sorry. Still early for me. I felt like I had gotten about fifteen minutes of sleep last night.” Gabriel gave the smaller woman a chuckle. “Haven’t had your usual morning coffee yet, huh? Forget the piss that’s served in a pot here. You should head down the street to that new bakery that sells specialty coffee.” Angela tried to hide her feelings of hurt, she loved the kind of coffee that Overwatch Headquarters had. But it was just like Angela to become agitated at something so little. She was known to take everything that was said to her personally. In return, it truly showed her determination to be able to make it through medical school and multiple residencies. Gabriel Reyes was the Commander of Overwatch, working along side with Jack Morrison.

Angela spun around on her foot, now heading toward the main hallway doors rather than the kitchen. “You know I can’t resist a double shot latte!” the blonde replied, beaming and blushing while ignoring the insult hidden within Gabe’s comment. “Take a right as soon as you head out the doors, then take a left as you meet the intersecting street and the bakery will be on your left. It’s called Sugarpine Bakery.” Gabriel shouted, his hands cupped around his mouth. Angela was already headed out the doors and heading right. “Thank you!” The blonde woman roared in hopes that Gabriel would hear her.

The sun was warm in contrast to the cool November chill that filled the air. The aroma of autumn was everywhere she went as was the colors of a dying bouquet. Reds, yellows, oranges and browns cluttered the sidewalk and trees bare and naked as their offerings of shade from the sun were forfeited to color the ground in a way that almost looked like the ground was set ablaze. The doctor’s bright white sneakers contrasted the ground in a way that made her look like an angel walking over flames. She swept her feet right then left, then left then right, as if she were extinguishing the the harmless fire colored leaves out of the way. 

It didn’t take long before she saw a sign for Sugarpine Bakery. The sign was brown with pink, dainty lettering. The doctor smiled to herself as she saw the double glass doors adorned with cling ons of pine trees, hearts, donuts and baguettes. She nearly doubled over thinking of Gabe with his tough, intimidating demeanor, walking into a bakery that seemed even a little too feminine for herself. She reached for the doors and entered and heard a little bell ding above her head. 

She took a deep breath and her senses ran wild. The scent of freshly baked bread, mixed with pastries and coffee took reigns of her senses. She shuffled toward the glass case next to the cash register and squatted down, her eyes meandered over every single pastry secured behind the glass. Apple strudels, cannolis, cinnamon rolls and freshly baguettes sat protected by forcefield of glass from the doctor’s drooling mouth.

A little voice chimed in behind the counter “Could I interest you in our special for the day? It’s a warm, flaky, chocolate filled croissant!” Angela’s eyes lit up as if she had just won the lottery, in a sense, she did. Angela regained her consciousness lost from a near sugar coma and stood up to meet the eyes of the cashier behind the glass case. She was tall, and slender. Her legs were as long as a summer day and she had long dark hair that started at a widow’s peak and was pulled back into a straight pony tail. Her eyes were as green as the first leaves that sprout in spring and her features could cut you like a knife. Her cheekbones were high and prominent, and her pale pink lips curled at the edges. She looked younger than Angela, but her features made her look more mature. Her apron was pink and white pinstripes, embellished in powders of flour and some coffee stains. 

Angela felt like a ton of bricks hit her, she was gorgeous. Angela felt heat begin to radiate from her cheeks as she opened her mouth to try to answer the woman that looked like she was sculpted by Michelangelo himself. “Y-yes, I’d like a double shot caramel latte and I’ll have your special.” The taller girl closed her eyes and gave the shorter blonde a smile “magnifique choice, chérie.” The French hit the doctor like she had been riddled with 45 caliber bullets. She could melt into a puddle. The darker haired woman grabbed a napkin and slowly opened the glass case, pulling out a chocolate filled croissant. She lay the napkin with the pastry on the counter and picked up a paper coffee cup, her fingers wrapping around the cup as she picked up a black sharpie and held it between two slender fingers.

“And your name, s'il vous plaît?” 

The blonde froze, great time to forget your name in front of a beautiful girl? Angela remembered the steps to successfully transplanting a heart but couldn’t for the life of her blurt out her name.

“Ang… el…. er?”

The taller woman smiled and wrote “Angel” with a star next to it. She turned around and placed the cup under the espresso maker, with a couple clicks of a few buttons Angela heard the coffee trickling into the cup. She took a second look at the pastry options before looking up and seeing the backside of barista. Angela’s face flushed for a second time as she tried to hide her smile by biting down on her bottom lip. The barista returned and snapped a lid onto the doctor’s coffee.

“That will be $1.20 for the coffee.” rolled off the taller girl’s tongue with a prominentFrench accent. The doctor fished around in her pocket and pulled out a $10. “What about the croissant?” Angela asked as she handed the younger woman her cash. The younger woman opened the register and handed back the doctor a five, three ones and 80 cents. She closed the register, and swept her bright green eyes from left to right. She held her hand above the doctor’s to hand her the 80 cents in change.

 

“No charge.”

 


	2. November's Chill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check for notes at the end!

White Frost encompassed the doctor’s window as she pulled on her crisp, clean, white socks. The bright red light from the doctor’s clock which read 5:12am seemed to bring a bit of warmth for the seemingly chilly November in Zürich. That didn’t stop Angela, though. She was up and dressed, she used that trusty black hair tie that always seemed to be fixated on her left wrist. She put her hair up, and strutted out the door. It was the first time in months that the doctor was able to sleep comfortably in her home, rather than her desk. Which at most times, doubled as a bed.

The doctor rattled off all the short ended projects that needed to be finished today under her breath. She popped her hands into her black peacoat and tucked her chin into the maroon scarf that adorned her neck. It wasn’t a far walk from her home, but the usual twenty minute stroll to Sugarpine Bakery inevitably felt like she was ascending Mount Everest on this unusually cold autumn day. But it was habitual now; the doctor and that tall, beautiful, French barista gradually became friends. 

Angela learned her name was Amélie, along with her favorite kind of tea, her nightly ritual before bed, and a few embarrassing moments from when she was growing up. Sadly for the doctor, that was the least that she learned. She also learned the barista was was married. But, naturally it was reasonable to have a crush on a married woman. The doctor knew in the back of her mind that it wouldn’t escalate.

Though Angela knew that Amélie was married, the topic always seemed to be avoided. The doctor never asked, she didn’t want to know. It wasn’t much of her business anyway, her and Amélie were just casual friends. Angela was a regular customer, and Amélie just happened to be working whenever Angela was there. Though, the doctor only regularly visited once she figured out what days the French woman worked. Every Wednesday, Amélie opened the cafe early just for Angela. From previous conversations and to Angela’s understanding, Amélie is one of Paris’ renowned ballet dancers. Per every Wednesday, Amélie would practice very early and head over to the bakery and open up around 5:30 or so. And to no one’s dismay, today was Wednesday, Overwatch’s Thanksgiving Eve.

The doctor’s sniffling nose could be heard a mile away. The French woman smiled as she finished turning her key into the door of the bakery, and right when the lock clicked she looked to her left and saw a figure shuffling toward the her. Amélie held the door open as the warm air engulfed the blonde doctor as she made all kinds of ludicrous noises; letting the taller brunette know she braced the arctic like temperatures to continue their Wednesday tradition. “Thank God, I never thought I was going to make it in here!” The doctor exclaimed as she wiped her tender red nose with a tissue from her pocket, after the agonizing walk through the icy weather. She walked over and sat down at the table closest to the counter where Amélie stood, fixing Angela’s regular order.

“You act like I owe you something, chérie.” The brunette laughed and batted her eyelashes at the doctor as she popped a lid onto the paper coffee cup and slid it toward the older blonde woman. “Your usual, double shot caramel latte with some extra caramel swirl.” The French woman smiled and winked at the doctor, fixating her left hand like a gun while forming her lips to make a little popping sound right at the doctor’s head. And there it was, that enormous rock on her left ring finger bound in rich yellow gold.

Amélie finally settled in and put her purple duffle bag next to the table, unlaced her purple sneakers and sat across from Angela at the small, square cafe table. She wore an oversized grey wide neck sweatshirt that made her unconsciously push up her sleeves since the sweatshirt was way too for her. She branded black leggings that showed every damn curve of her toned body. Angela seemed to be in space as she gawked at the woman in front of her. Damn, even after a morning practice Amélie pulled herself together extremely well. The younger woman extended her hand and ran her long, slender finger alongside of the doctor’s hand that was clasped around her coffee cup to snap her out of her daze.

Angela nearly jolted from the skin to skin contact, which in return made Amélie snicker. “So, what does the doctor have planned today?” Amélie asked as she leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. Angela looked at the clock on the wall that now read 6:08am. With a sigh, the doctor answered. “Actually, I have quite a few projects that need to be finished today.” She swept a piece of her hair from her forehead behind her ear. “Apparently we are celebrating Thanksgiving tomorrow, which really hinders me from finishing the projects that I would like to complete today.”

“Is the project the Valkyrie suit you have been boasting about, chérie?” Amélie loved to give Angela a hard time, but it never bothered her. If anything, Angela thrived for it. A gigantic grin appeared on her face, as much as Amélie loved to tease her, Angela loved when she paid attention to what she said. From an outsider’s standpoint, Angela can get wrapped up in medical terms, and get stuck in doctor language. Amélie was certainly more than attentive, if she didn’t understand, she would ask. If she still didn’t understand, she would pretend she did. She loved hearing the doctor speak about something she was not only so knowledgable about, but have such a passion for.

The doctor gave her the long answer, and Amélie paid attention. “How ironic that the first time you came in here, I wrote Angel on your cup. It sounds like your Valkyrie suit makes you look like an angel among everyone else.” The French woman smiled and propped her right arm on the table and rested her cheek against her hand. Before the doctor could even stop her blushing, Amélie began to speak again. “I am supposedly going to a Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow too. My husband’s office is having a celebration. I haven’t been to his office in years, I hope it’s not terrible. I am sure it will be such a bore.” The French woman rolled her eyes as she got up from the table and pushed her chair in and threw on her work’s pinstripe apron.

Silence fell between them. The doctor fought the urge to shoot the barista a grimace of disgust. It was one of the first times Amélie actually mentioned her husband. The doctor didn’t know what Amélie’s situation with her husband was, and she wasn’t sure why she was trying to bring it up at all. It was never a conversation before, why would it be now? The doctor stood up from her chair and fixed her scarf around her neck once more before backing out of the door. “Well, I hope your Thanksgiving will be better than you expect it to be. I need to get to work.” Before Amélie could say goodbye to the doctor, she heard the door ding and saw footprints in the snow walking the opposite direction from where she came.

 

—————

 

 

‘Was that a ping of jealousy?’ the doctor thought to herself. She found herself well irritated over the fact that at times it was harder to control her feelings toward her crush than it was to graduate from medical school with a job already secured. She sped walk all the way to Headquarters while brainstorming different methods to finish out her projects. She walked into her office and took off her scarf and looked at the clock; 7:35am. Angela unbuttoned her peacoat and let down her hair. She had no time to procrastinate if she wanted to complete most of her unfinished work and be able to unwind with her colleagues tomorrow.

 

————— 

 

Icy, weary eyes meandered over to the clock that read 3:37am. Finally, she was finished. The doctor slowly and quietly closed the door to her office as she walked out a nearly empty Overwatch headquarters. The chill from earlier never seemed to fade, as she tucked her chin into her scarf once again. Dim streetlights hardly illuminated the rocky, cobblestone road as she nearly jogged back to her place. She paid no attention to the snow that was accumulating on her head as her mind started to drift off to the barista. She imagined how wonderful of a dancer Amélie was, how she proclaimed she was the star of the well recognized ballet, Swan Lake. She imagined the way her pointe shoes would look with the ribbon wrapped around her long legs. She imagined Amélie after the show, bowing with bouquets of flowers being thrown on stage as she took a final bow for the audience. The thoughts soon had Angela wishing she was front and center for every performance.

Once she got home, she slammed and locked the door and undressed from head to toe, minus her panties and threw on an oversized t-shirt before jumping into bed. A hearty moan escaped from the sleep deprived doctor while she laid on her stomach, her left leg poking straight out from underneath her fluffy comforter and her right leg curved at a nearly 90 degree angle. Though she was exhausted and some what annoyed that she had to go to this silly Thanksgiving tomorrow, she derived so much pleasure from the fact that it was being treated as a holiday for all of Overwatch, and that she able to sleep in for the first time in months.

Hours later, Doctor Ziegler awoke from what would be described as a ‘heavenly, ethereal’ sleep, one could tell from her appearance as her shirt was hiked up over her belly button and her hair looked like a frantic mess. She looked at the clock which read 10:33am. The blonde snorted and smiled from her well accomplished slumber. She stepped out of bed and slid on her slippers and fixed herself a cup of coffee before deciding to shower. The doctor stepped into her bathroom and turned the knobs on her shower, turning the hot water on more than the cold. She stripped, opened the shower curtain and got in. As the doctor washed her hair, she thought of the plethora of food that was going to be made available for dinner this evening. She kneaded the shampoo into her golden colored hair with her delicate fingers as her thoughts somehow began to linger on Amélie, and how she wish Amélie was behind her in the shower, pressing her body against the doctor’s and washing her hair for her.

The daydream was cut short as the doctor became annoyed after she remembered Amélie had mentioned her husband. Whatever. She finished her shower quickly after that, and began to change and get ready for the celebration. She ended up wearing an orange sweater with a black pair of skinny jeans and knee high black boots. The doctor ran a brush through her long, golden locks and applied just a little bit of coral blush to her cheekbones. Angela grabbed her jacket as well as her cross body purse and walked out the door. To her dismay, prior to the night before - the sun was shining brightly and the hustle and bustle of downtown Zürich was back to normal again. 

Angela walked down the busy streets, passing Sugarpine Bakery on her way to headquarters, paying no attention to it whatsoever. She smiled as she saw families walking in and out of store fronts, couples hustling to make the next train. A wisp of wind caught her as she walked through the doors to headquarters, which made her shiver a bit. Angela was greeted by a roars of laughter and the aroma of different foods being cooked. She walked down to her office to put her coat and bag in there and headed toward the cafeteria. Everyone was there, Commander Morrison who barely showed any emotion had a smile plastered on his face. Mother and daughter Freeha and Ana Amari were found dabbling about the drinks that were being served.

Angela walked over to a familiar face Gabriel, and tapped him on the shoulder just as he turned around with a big grin. “Hi Ang, glad you finally made it. What can I get you to drink?” The blonde pondered and decided on a glass of white wine. The doctor wasn’t a big drinker, but she figured since this was a special occasion, she may as well take advantage. “All right, I’ll be right back.” Gabriel began to walk away and stopped in mid thought. “Wait, Ang. Gérard is here with his wife. I’ll send him over your way so you can finally meet her.” 

The blonde smiled “Oh, okay. Great!” As Gabriel walked away, foregoing thoughts came rushing back to her about what Gérard’s wife is like. If she was married to Gérard, she must be as wonderful as him. Angela’s heart began to pick up speed as she became suddenly nervous. Though the doctor was fairly shy, she loved meeting new people. She felt butterflies as her name was called. She was so excited to finally meet Gérard’s wife.

“Angela!” She knew that voice from anywhere. She beamed her bright white teeth as she turned around to the voice of her favorite Overwatch Agent, Gérard Lacroix. The blonde greeted her longtime friend with a cheerful hug and pulled away after she felt Gabriel push a wine glass into her hand. “Angela, there is someone I want you to meet.” The French man sported a wide smile as he extended his arm out, a delicate hand resting within his. Angela set her eyes on the woman who was linked to Gérard’s hand as she took a sip of the transparent liquid in her wineglass.

“This is my wife, Amélie.” The blonde’s eyes nearly sprung out of their sockets as she saw the tall French woman standing before her, her lips curled into a smirk as she too, had a wine glass in hand.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Angela nearly fell over. She didn’t put two and two together, ever.For being such a world renowned doctor, Angela was quite naive. Amélie too, stood in shock. Gérard was taken aback by both reactions. “I don’t understand, what is going on here?” The French man asked. Amélie was quick to answer.

“What a surprise, ma chérie.” Amélie said to her perplexed husband. “Angela is a regular at the bakery.” Amélie quickly recited Angela’s regular order as the doctor stood there in awe. Gérard doubled over from laughter, as if it were the funniest thing he had heard since speaking to Angela in her office the other day. He raised his hand that was holding a wine glass in the air, nearly spilling the blood red drink everywhere. “I didn’t know that you two knew each other! Say, Angela, why don’t you come to our Christmas party back at the house in Paris? I’ll invite Mr. Morrison and Gabe too, I’ll even fly you out there - how does that sound?”

The blonde still stood there in awe. She couldn’t believe the situation in front of her. She looked the French woman up and down, a pair of black leggings and black heeled boots with a long maroon sweater covering up some of the doctor’s favorite features to look at. Amélie extended her hand and ran one of her fingers from the doctor’s shoulder down to her wrist. This snapped the doctor out of the trance she was in.

“I would love to have you there, ma chérie.” Amélie whispered to the blonde. With much hesitation, Angela accepted the offer. What did Amélie mean when she said ‘I’ rather than ‘we’ Wasn’t Gérard expecting her company too? ‘Amélie must have had a few glasses of wine before she got there - that’s it.’ the doctor thought in her head, making excuses for the younger woman.As the night progressed, she noticed Amélie becoming more and more distant toward Gérard. Before the food was almost ready, Angela went to sit down at the main dining table. And of course, Amélie pulled out the seat next to her. The younger woman placed her hand on the doctor’s thigh and the other hand on her shoulder.  
“Angela, what is the matter? What’s going on?” Amélie expressed concern through her thick French accent. The doctor took a deep breath and began. “I just, I didn’t know that you andGérard were together. I thought he was one of my closest friends here but I never heard a thing about you. I never heard your name from him, he even knew how much I would visit the bakery and he still never said a thing to me.” The older woman shrugged as the younger woman twirled a piece from her hair around her finger.

“Well, you know Gérard.” Amélie replied. “As an Overwatch Agent, he always seems to practice not being open with others. I suppose it is just the nature of the beast. But please, don’t take it personally.” The brunette moved her hand from the outside of Angela’s thigh to the inside, just before picking up her wineglass full of merlot with the other hand and taking a sip. The doctor inhaled deeply as she looked Amélie straight in the eye, a smirk began to form on Amélie’s lips. She traced her fingers from the inside of the doctor’s thigh, back to the outter part of her leg, and back into her own lap.

 

“Désolé…” The younger woman whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> I'm kind of bummed because I have been super busy during the holiday season and wanted to post before the New Year but here we are! Still very open to constructive criticism, I hope you like it! Already brainstorming chapter 3 :)
> 
> Also still kind of self conscious about the dialogue - easy to read or confusing? 
> 
> Thanks again everyone <3


	3. The Sound of Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think! Still open to constructive criticism - in this chapter I tried to actually write as who they are if that makes sense. I felt I wasn't really capturing the essence of Amélie or Angela. I also apologize if the German and French in this are terribly wrong - I use google translate because I don't really know either of those languages. Anyway, i hope you all enjoy it! Thanks for reading.

The winter streets of Zürich were pale, blue and blustery. They were in sheer contrast to a busy, quaint home, tucked into the corner of town. The doctor’s house was not nearly as sizable as you would think a doctor’s home would be - but since most of her time was spent at headquarters there was no need for such a lavish living space. The one bedroom, ground floor townhouse had a heartfelt glow to it. Deep red brick coated the outside, while tall, white pillars stood at the front of either side of her front door, making it look more posh than it really was. Inside, smiles and laughter were exchanged as large red and green tote bins were passed around, filled to the brim with colorful lights and decorations.

Laughter quickly drowned out as a sharp ring flooded the room from the doctor’s kitchen. The older, grey haired woman walked to the stove and removed the kettle from the stovetop and took out 3 mugs from the red oak cabinet above the counter and poured the scalding hot water into each mug.

“Cocoa’s done!” Ana Amari exclaimed. What was only supposed to be a onetime get together, turned into an annual tradition. A couple weeks before Christmas, the Amari’s showed up to the doctor’s doorstep with two bins, one carried by Ana, and the other, Fareeha.

They were full of faux garlands, red and white ornament bulbs, and decorative lights. Christmas time was always particularly hard for Angela, after losing her parents to war at an early age, she never had the privilege of properly celebrating the holiday until a year after the doctor joined Overwatch. Though Angela considered all of Overwatch her family, the Amari’s took on a particular role. Ana instantly became a mother figure to Angela, while Fareeha’s spunky attitude early on made her feel like a sister to the doctor. She found herself quite lucky that she and Fareeha never seemed to bicker like siblings supposedly would.

The blonde stood on a chair in the entryway in front of the door, her callused fingers running over the top of the wooden mantle, blindly searching where nails had been hammered previously to keep christmas lights from falling. After finding where they began, she started curling strings of the lights around the nails to secure them. Ana placed the mugs of cocoa on a tray and brought the plateful over to the doctor’s coffee table, which was just about adjacent to the front door. 

She hopped off the chair, walked over to her couch and sat next to the younger woman; a puzzled looking Fareeha. Angela picked up a mug of cocoa - which could have doubled as a hand warmer just before Fareeha let out a sigh. The short, brown haired woman rolled her eyes as she let paper directions slip out of her hand and watched them float to the floor like a feather would. Angela put a soft hand on the younger girls’ shoulder - “Can’t seem to figure out the tree, huh? We have problems putting it up every year!” The doctor laughed and took a hearty sip of her cocoa, and covered her mouth after nearly spilling it on her taupe, cashmere sweater.

“Is that why you always end up having me put it together?” The shorter girl groaned and covered her eyes with her hands in faint irritation, which made the doctor and Ana rumble with laughter. 

“You’re the doctor here,” the older woman took a sip from her mug and placed it back on the table; “shouldn’t you be the one giving us instruction?” A friendly scowl appeared on the doctor’s face just before she heard a buzzing sound coming from her kitchen.

Angela turned her head and looked over to her table, she saw a soft glow radiating onto the dark room’s ceiling – her cellphone. She got up and walked over to the kitchen table and picked it up, before tapping the phone to accept the call - she looked to see who was calling her. It was Gérard. She quickly answered Ana’s question before picking up the phone.

“Hang on just a moment, hopefully this will give me an excuse to not have to put that tree together.” Winking at the mother-daughter duo. She answered the phone, and after a few okay’s and no problems, she hung up and sat back down next to her younger coworker. “What was that about?” Fareeha questioned, finishing up the last few sips of her cocoa which was now lukewarm. The older woman looked quizzically at Angela too, knowing that Gérard should be preparing for his short mission that began tomorrow.

The blonde rose from the couch and walked over to pick up the instructions that were dropped a few moments ago. “Special instructions from Gérard, finish putting together my tree.” She laughed as she handed them back to Fareeha. With a sigh, she began. “Gérard didn’t realize I wouldn’t be at headquarters, I mean it is a Sunday evening after all.” She collected the empty mugs and walked over to the sink and placed the ceramic pieces in carefully, filling them with hot water. “My office is locked, and he needed to give me confidential documents. He’s going on mission tomorrow, so he is having  Amélie drop them off here.” She quietly stepped back into the entryway to plug in the red, green and white holiday lights.

The room fell silent, a near polar opposite from the laughter and cheerfulness that filled the room a few moments ago. A deep breath was heard before the older woman cut the silence.  “Boy’s got to have a lot of trust in a woman who performs as a career, no? I hope Jack doesn’t find out what he’s asked of her.” Her arms crossed against her chest, while she leaned on a corner of the wall, right next to the dining area.

The statement came off as harsh and unfriendly to the doctor, she mentioned to the older Amari that the documents were sealed, and that if anything suspicious did arise, the agents would be able to figure it out relatively easily. She also corrected the older woman by letting her know that not only was Amélie a performer, but she also took on the role as a barista at a local café as well.

                Ana laughed, but it didn’t seem sincere as it did earlier. “Fond of that Amélie, I presume?” Angela could feel her face flush, as she recalled the feelings she had for Amélie that she’s tried to suppress time, and time again. She found herself visiting the café less often, switching back to the house brew at headquarters. And Gabriel was right, it was terrible. She missed the fragrance of the coffee beans being roasted, and the flaky croissants that would taunt her behind secured glass.

                “I mean, she is a good friend.” Angela confessed, looking down at her feet. “She’s just lonely,” Angela huffed. “Gérard is so busy that she picked up this part time job at the café because she can’t stand to be alone.” Angela grew irritated as she finished her statement, balling her hands into fists and crossing them over her chest, staring right at Ana. She wasn’t sure why she had to defend someone that Ana hardly knew.

                “She didn’t look like she was lonely at Thanksgiving!” Fareeha chimed in, reminding the doctor of her previous encounter with the tall Frenchwoman. She recalled the placement of Amélie’s  hand on the inside of her thigh, though it had to be entirely accidental. 

“And, weren’t you invited to the Lacroix’ Christmas party back in France?” Ana asked, interrupting the reflection of the late Thanksgiving evening. “They must really love you. Gérard may be blind to the way you look at his wife, but just know the rest of the team isn’t.” The older Amari concluded. At the moment, the lecture received from her superior seemed worse than the ones she had to attend in medical school.

                A few moments of silence passed before Angela picked up the prickly, faux garland to decorate her kitchen counter with. She was furious. If she wasn’t trained to keep her composure in hostile situations, she would have gotten into a yelling match with Ana. How dare she practically call Angela out in front of one of her coworkers? The doctor turned to her stove which read the time in bright green numbers, 7:03pm.

                “Verdammt, seven o’clock already.” The doctor muttered, loud enough for the mother and daughter to hear, hoping they’d acknowledge that it was time to go. She fluffed the strings of the garland while she watched the Amari’s pack up their things out of the corner of her eye. The doctor’s head felt cloudy, her soft blue eyes would well up as she revisited the conversation that just happened between the three. She felt called out, embarrassed and belittled.

Fareeha put her hand on the doctor’s shoulder, “Ang, see you tomorrow.” She waited for the doctor to acknowledge her goodbye, but she didn’t. All she saw was a little nod that made her blonde’s ponytail sway from side to side.

“Fareeha, are you ready?” The older woman went to turn the doorknob, and instead became startled as she heard three heavy knocks on the door. “What wonderful timing.” Ana mumbled to her daughter, she pulled open the door to reveal the tall Frenchwoman. Her body covered by a midnight blue parka, a manilla envelope held in her left hand; and a bottle of cabernet held daintily in her right. This time; no wedding band adorned her left ring finger. Ana snickered as she walked past the woman with her daughter.

“Amélie, please let us know if there’s anything we can do for you while Gérard is on his mission.” Ana mentioned to the younger woman as she brushed by her. “Ms. Amari, merci. I will be sure to.” She smiled and waved the envelope as she stepped inside the doctor’s home.

Amélie entered, she kicked off her boots and hung up her jacket on one of the hooks that the doctor hangs her house key from. She walked over to where Angela stood, still fixing each and every limb of the garland she’s using to decorate her kitchen counter with. Her hands lay the envelope on the opposite side of the counter, and she sets the bottle of wine down next to it. She looks up to an exasperated Angela, and pushes a strand of her hair out of her face.

With care, and concern in her eyes, the younger woman extends her arm around the doctor’s waist in an embrace. “Chérie?” A soft tone emerged from the french woman’s lips. The doctor pulled away from the hold of the younger woman, and pulled out the bar stool from the other side of the counter and sat down.

“Christmas time has always been difficult.” the doctor started, she began to explain to Amélie what had happened to her while she was growing up, being orphaned at a young age. The darker haired woman listened with intent, she opened the bottle of blood red wine and poured herself and Angela a glass. She sat on the stool next to the older woman and swirled the liquid around in the glass - releasing notes of oaky plum. The doctor’s broken voice twirled in her ears and made her reflexes reach for her hand as the doctor poured out her childhood trauma.

“Je suis là.” Amélie offered her the last bit of cabernet in the bottle. Angela accepted, her cheeks rosy, nodding her head. This made Amélie smile, joy spread throughout her body whenever she saw the doctor out of her element. “Better, chérie?” She asked the doctor, her hand resting over Angela’s. “Much, danke.” A smile surfaced on her face, and 7:00 soon became 11:00 as the two both opened up, and divulged in deeper conversation. It was nice. It was nice for Angela, the woman who was known to keep her nose buried in books and rarely spoke of her personal life. And it was nice for Amélie, the young performer whose confidence was often seen as cockiness. Her heart blossoming with each and every secret that Angela had shared - whether it be big or small.

The younger woman stretched her arms as she covered her mouth while she yawned, this made Angela turn her head to the clock on the stove. “11? I didn’t realize it was this late.” Amélie took the comment as a sign to go. It was late, she knew the Angela had work in the morning, and she had to as well. But she didn’t want to leave. At this rate, even thirty minutes of sleep would have been enough if she were able to just talk to Angela all night. The darker haired woman stood up and walked toward the door, the blonde following from behind.

“I’m not quite sure what was going on before I dropped by,” the Amélie began as she bent over to put on her boots. “but I’m glad you let me stay.” the Frenchwoman revealed with a smile, tucking a couple of loose strands of hair behind her ear before standing back up.

“Merci.” The younger woman whispered as the doctor helped her into her coat, she zipped it up to her chest and opened the door. Angela quick slipped on a pair of shoes and walked with Amélie to her vehicle. 

Snowfall cleared from the sky, the bitter cold didn’t feel as chill when her eyes fell on Amélie. Warmth radiated from her green and amber colored eyes, snow crystals clouded her long eyelashes after they fell from above. Her full lips were drawn into a smile, a smile you’d only see a married couple share. The silence that surrounded them on that late Sunday night was all but uncomfortable. Snow began to lay blankets upon their coats, while the light hum of the Frenchwoman’s car was barely audible over the heartbeat that echoed in the doctor’s ears. 

And, it was there. The flame that was ignited, over and over again had been once more. Angela felt her heart nearly burst as those same full lips swept across the right side of the her cheek. They felt different than how she’d imagined they would feel, much better; actually. 

“Merci pour ce soir.” Amélie softly said after her lips lost contact with Angela’s warm skin. She walked over to her car door and opened it, and sat down on the heated leather seat. Before she finally closed the car door, she half got out, and secured her footing on the snow covered pavement of the driveway. 

“Je t’aime, docteur.”

The door clicked shut, and the doctor’s eyes followed the vehicle as it backed out of her driveway and rode down the street. The condensation crowded her head as she exhaled. She thought about Gérard, she thought about the confrontation she had with Ana earlier. Her thoughts trailed to her friends, her colleagues back at Overwatch who supposedly had a clue too. But still, her thoughts always seemed to circle their way back to Amélie. She was like soft bed after a strenuous work week, she was like a gentle wind on a late spring day. She’s the glimmer of warmth in your frigid, winter day.

“Verdammt.”

The snow crunched beneath her feet as she walked back up her driveway and entered through her front door. Her fingers found her temples and began to knead them while she kicked her shoes off. The place was a mess. Christmas ornaments and decorations carelessly littered the floor, bins were open and strewn about. Red stained wine glasses sit upon the counter top, while the expensive cabernet bottle lay in the sink. Angela clicked the lights off and ignored the mess, and headed straight to her room. She made sure her house was locked up before she stripped and struggled to put on her sleep shirt.

She pulled down her covers and plugged in her phone as she sat in bed. She quick looked at a text she didn’t see from earlier.

“See you at the Christmas party?”

Angela quick replied “See you there.”

She laid her head down, and was soon cradled to sleep by the darkness that engulfed her bedroom. The last thought on the doctor’s mind before dozing off, was the sound the snow made when Amélie walked to her car after her lips had just left the doctor’s warm skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a longer one, I'm sorry if this doesn't seem like it's really taking off - next chapter it will! Thanks again for reading, you're all wonderful <3


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